Mended in Battle
by ajsmiles
Summary: A sequel to 'Broken by Vengance'. 2 years after discovering her brother was not, in fact, dead- the Musketeers appear in her life again. OC focused. Very much AU, all errors are my own. rated M to be safe for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Urgent banging at the door of her old family home echoed and awoke Isabelle from where she slept at her desk, still clutching to her book, the candle burnt almost to its silver stand. She heard her evening servant girl hurrying to answer, and quickly wrapped a gown around her bedclothes, anxious to see who would call upon her so late in the evening.

'Mademoiselle!' Sofia, her evening maid rushed up the stairs as she was walking down 'four gentlemen at the door, Kings Musketeers! They ask for you, and seek refuge'

'Thank-you Sofia, I will meet them presently' she hurried down the stairs, anxious that her brother, estranged as they were, may be among them. They stood in the entrance, two men supporting another who was bleeding slowly onto the polished wooden floor. Rene stood, hat in his hands. In the low light she recognized Athos and Porthos, their nods of greeting enough for the time.

'Mademoiselle d'Herblay. My friend is injured and we are retreating. I beg of you a place to tend to his wounds and rest for the night, until our regiment arrives on the morrow' he bowed to her, hiding his recognition, grateful the servants would not recognize him.

'Of course, please, follow me' she gestured vaguely to a room he knew as his fathers' office. He was surprised to see the desk pushed aside and his bed taking the centre of the room.

'In my fathers' later days he sought the comfort of his books. When he could no longer leave bed, it was the last gift I could offer him to allow him to die among the things he loved so dearly' she explained, the room barely touched since his passing. She stripped back the dusty bed cover and Athos and Porthos lay the well tanned young man onto the sheets. She recognised him from the garrison some 2 years earlier.

'You are a good daughter to have allowed him such joy' Rene responded, meeting her eyes, and she saw his worry and concern for his fellow soldier.

'd'Artagnan was shot, we need to extract the ball' Athos said, speaking for the first time.

'Sofia, fetch clean cloth and hot water, and send Jean to the tavern for wine and brandy. He needs to hurry, our guest is in need of pain relief' Isabelle ordered with urgency to the girl standing in the doorway. She looked at Rene, who seemed to know what he was about to do. 'What do you need me to do?'

'Keep him awake and distracted. Talk to him' Rene was grateful his sister was just as sensible as she had always been.

Isabelle knelt by the side of the bed, taking d'Artagnan's hand and stroking his hair away from his sweaty forehead. 'Hello d'Artagnan. Je suis Isabelle d'Herblay'

D'atagnan struggled to focus on her, his eyes finally clinging to her own. 'Bonjour Mademoiselle'

'Having a rough day?' she smiled, her thumb stroking his forehead 'Do you have a wife d'Artagnan?'

Rene tore the bloodstained shirt from his friends shoulder, inspecting the wound, wiping blood away with the cloths Sofia brought and left silently, dismissed with a nod from her mistress.

'Somewhat' he grunted as Rene grazed too close to the wound

'And what is the lucky ladies name?'

'Constance' his lips twitched in an almost smile at the thought of her.

'And is she a beautiful as her name?'

'She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I could stare at her forever' he closed his eyes, succumbing to pain, his body's natural reaction to faint.

'Stay with me d'Artagnan' Isabelle stroked his cheek. She glanced over her shoulder, Athos and Porthos hovered anxiously at the foot of the bed. 'Keep your eyes open and focused on me. D'Artagnan. Tell me more about Constance'

Rene dug into the wound, eliciting a roar of pain as his eyes snapped open, searching wildly for something to focus upon. Her brother was struggling to find the ball, buried in the bone of his collarbone. She watched him, as she talked to d'Artagnan, holding his hand, allowing him to squeeze as he fought with the pain.

Finally, Isabelle had had enough. 'Athos, take his hand and keep him talking' their fingers brushed as he took his friends hand from her. A fleeting glance made her heart leap, and she was instantly ashamed of herself for being unable to control feelings she had worked so hard to keep inside. She moved next to Rene, nudging him out of the way 'Move brother. I know how to remove this ball much easier. Let me do this'

'Isabelle?' Rene stared at her, his bloodied hands tangled in a cloth. 'What do you know of Musketball wound?''

'I've had a similar shot wound before. My hands are smaller, I can do this better' she could feel Athos' eyes upon her as she leant down to see the true damage. 'Forgive me d'Artagnan. This will hurt'

She retrieved Rene's dagger from his belt, and with quick, nimble fingers, pressed the seared flesh down around the damaged bone. She could just see the ball, and she prayed it would come free with minimal prying. She wedged the point of the dagger between bone and ball, and flicked up, the ball shooting up into the hand she held over the wound. Isabelle dropped the dagger to the bed, snatching up a clean cloth she applied firm pressure. Finally Jean entered the room.

'At last' she said quietly. 'I need the brandy. Put the rest in the dining room and ask the chef to prepare a supper' she took the brandy her favourite servant passed her, biting the wax and cork seal off and spitting it onto the bed. 'You need to be prepared to stitch this wound' she looked at Rene briefly before tipping the bottle slightly into d'Artagnans mouth. Athos urged him to drink, the strong brandy capable of dulling any pain.

'Where did you learn that?' Rene asked, taking control and keeping pressure on his friends wound. He searched her face for answers, where he found none, before he turned back and prepared to stitch the wound.


	2. Chapter 2

Isabelle left the room quietly, musket ball still clenched in her hand. Jean followed her, waiting for her instructions 'Please prepare hot wash basins for our guests. Have Sofia prepare beds, ensure the rooms are prepared. You are not a fool, take charge and ensure them every comfort. The King's Musketeers are still close to my heart' with a bow, Jean hurried to fulfil his mistresses demands.

'He is asleep' Porthos rested his large hand on her shoulder 'Mademoiselle d'Herblay, we owe you much'

'It hasn't been so long that you need to stand on circumstance, Porthos. Please call me Isabelle' she smiled at the gruff, scarred man, 10 years older than she remembered. He had aged well, the life of a soldier agreed with him. She placed the bloodied musket ball in his hand 'Give this to d'Artagnan when he wakes. It's good luck to keep it'

'I will' he tucked the little ball in his pocket, turning at the noise of his fellow soldiers leaving the room behind him.

'You did a fantastic job, Isabelle. You should have been a nurse' Aramis commented, cloth between his hands.

'I only did my duty to king and country' she smiled, unsure if she should display the long held affection for him or not. She turned her gaze to Athos. 'You are retreating. Are we in danger here?'

'We rode fast, and our opposition were on foot. This village should be safe' Athos assured her

'Should be safe? That is perhaps not as reassuring as you hoped' she arched a brow at him 'How many hours behind are they?'

'5, at least. Our regiment should be here by then'

'Then I must warn the mayor and prepare the town' Isabelle toyed with her braided hair briefly 'If you will excuse me'

'You cannot go alone, it is dangerous for a woman' Aramis held out his hand to stop her

'If you think me uncapable, then by all means- visit the town and warn them yourself' he blanched at the thought of someone recognising him 'I thought not. Athos, how many are they?'

'Two dozen, though they may have increased their numbers' he knew the expression on her face. He had seen it on her brothers many times before. The stubborn refusal to yield.

'Jean? Show these gentlemen to their rooms so they may wash before supper. I will not be long' Jean gestured to the stairs, and the three men followed him, not without hesitation.

Aramis stopped at the foot of the stairs. 'Be careful, Isabelle'

'I am never anything but' she called as she wrapped her cape around herself and hurried out the door. Her horse seemed glad of the exercise, as she spurred him on into the town, leaving him to wait as she pounded on the door of the mayors apartments.

Isabelle explained the whole situation as best she could, encouraging him to rouse the men of the town and prepare them to defend it if necessary. He thanked her for the information, promising to take care of the situation swiftly, and bid her farewell. She was disappointed, as though she was not to be listened to. She did not want to see any bloodshed in her little town. She had heard rumours of brute squads moving across the lands to the west, taking towns by force and extracting money and supplies. It would not stand.

Her estate was on the westernmost side of the town, and would have to stand as the first line of defence. She was unable to sleep, though she could hear distinctive snores from the rooms upstairs. She checked on d'Artagnan periodically, asked his permission to borrow his sword in case a battle came to them. She dressed in preparation, her old breeches and shirt, a black wool cloak to keep the chill from her bones.

Athos joined her in the cold before dawn, his silent company a comfort she had not felt in many years. She was so utterly focused upon the dancing flames and the quiet crackle of timber that she jumped when his large, rough hand covered her own. He withdrew his hand quickly, an apology tumbling from his lips.

'I only wished to comfort you' he said gently, returning his eyes to the flames.

'You presence is the greatest comfort I have had in years' she reached for his hand, curling her fingers between his 'I never truly apologised... for what I said'

'You need not' he squeezed her hand, only slightly 'I understand'

She moved to stand in front of him, the warmth of the fire on her back. With her free hand, she traced an index finger over the fine, thin scar on his neck. 'I am sorry, Athos. I wish I could make it up to you' she watched his Adams apple bob as he swallowed, fixing a penetrating gaze fixed upon her. Her fingers traced barely felt lines over his throat, through his bearded chin, across his forehead, her fingers entwining into his curls. She waited for a sign, for any indication that he wished her to continue.

'Isabelle' he sighed, hand wrapping around her waist and pulling her close to him. He kissed her forehead softly 'I cannot be what you wish me to be. I am sorry'

She rested her head against his chest and allowed herself to feel the warmth of him embrace, imagining, for just a moment, that she could always have this. She pulled away, gently, easing the distance between them in. Her spirit ached when her fingers fell from his, and she returned her face to the passive mask she had worn for so long. The fire had lost its appeal, though she returned to staring into its heart.

Aramis and Porthos broke the silence minutes later.

'Why are we even awake at this hour?' Aramis grumbled.

'Because you' Isabelle jabbed a finger into his chest 'brought danger here. I may just be a feeble woman, but I will protect my home, if no one else will'

'You forget yourself Isabelle' there was a tone in Aramis' voice she did not recognise, one that would have scared her had it not been her own brother. 'Do not speak to me in that manner. I am still the rightful heir. This is still my home'

'One word, Rene. One word is all it would have taken, to let me know you were alive. You surrendered your rights the day you broke my heart. Do not speak to me as though you know that pain' she straightened her back, wrapping her cloak around her as she stormed from the house. Jean waited with her horse, properly saddled and prepared this time. She mounted, warning him to let no one into the house and to protect the women and d'Artagnan, before encouraging her steed into a slow walk, waiting for her companions to join her.


	3. Chapter 3

It was bare moments before the three men joined her. She directed her words to Porthos, the only one of the group who had not betrayed, lied or rejected her.

'Just upon that hill we will be able to see everything for miles around, but easily hidden if necessary. I suppose we can talk defence when we arrive' she pointed to a dark smudge on the barely lightening horizon, before nudging her beautiful steed into action, the pounding of 4 sets of hooves matching the beating of her heart.

* * *

Isabelle had been in duels and brawls before, but never with such a huge number. The sound of the steel on steel blades, the shouting, the smell of black powder, all invaded her senses.  
She dropped her opponent, spinning on the spot just in time to cut the knees from beneath a villain rushing at Athos from behind.  
He smirked at her when he turned in defence, this was his element. 'Well done Isabelle!' he shouted, his sword clashing against the barrel of musket as he pushed it aside swinging a vicious punch and knocking another out.  
Further down the hill, Isabelle could see Aramis fighting three men to himself. Another was running down and she quickly aimed her pistol. The brute fell, sliding face first down the hill a few metres before coming to a stop, motionless.

It was bare seconds before another of the squad engaged her, and for once her lack of height worked to her advantage as she slammed the heel of her hand under his chin, snapping his head back and drawing the dagger across his throat. She didn't think she should enjoy ending life so much, but she was. She enjoyed this. The pounding of her heart, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the way her senses were so heightened.

The back up from the musketeers regiment thundered over the ridge shortly after, the sheer force of their numbers was ending the fight quickly, their opponents either dead or bound on their knees to face court for their crimes.

'Armaud NO!' she heard Rene scream, the sickening crunch and the blinding pain that followed were all her own.  
Her knees cracked against the solid ground, and she flung her arms out to catch herself- but her arm wouldn't cooperate. She flopped onto the ground, startled by her own high pitched shriek of pain. Her vision swam, and she must have bitten her tongue because all she could taste was blood.  
She felt the heat of someone's hands brushing hair from her face, the sound of Rene shouting at the soldier who had attacked her.  
'She was on our side! She is my sister! If you've killed her, I'll kill you!'

'Aramis you are not helping!' Athos' deep voice cut through the noise, she grunted as he touched her shoulder. 'Prepare a stretcher, we cannot move her too much' gentle fingers caressed her hair, she kept her eyes tightly closed, focusing on her breathing 'Isabelle, stay with me. Keep focused on me, darling'

'I can hear you Athos. I'm here' she said quietly, swallowing the blood in her mouth, aware some was trickling from her lips but unable to wipe her mouth clean. The pain was flowing in waves, and it crashed down upon her now, and she surrendered herself up to the painless option of unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

'Isabelle... Isabelle, wake up' she heard her name being called as though she were underwater, vague and soft. Pain rushed in, throbbing and burning. 'Isabelle, can you hear me now? You need to wake up'

'mmmmphhhhh' she mumbled, her tongue swollen 'm'm awack'

'Open your mouth and swallow' she recognised her brothers voice, and she obliged, the honeyed brandy burning her throat on the way down. 'You've got broken ribs, a broken shoulder and arm. You're badly bruised'

'Ith evyone sath?' she lisped, trying to clear her throat and accepting more brandy

'Everyone is fine' he soothed 'you're the hero of the town'

'Good' she nodded, discovering a new pain in her neck 'Help me up'

'No, you need to rest' his face was etched with worry, she noted with some pleasure, when she finally gained the strength to open her eyes 'we need to discuss the scars you have. Athos is beside himself with worry'

'I fought to avenge your death for 7 years Rene, which is not without danger. Of course I have scars' she processed what he had said 'what do you mean Athos is worried? Brother, do not attempt to stir hope where there is none'

'I am not... forgive me, Isabelle. I only wish to see you happy' he stroked her cheek with one rough thumb 'Armaud will face severe punishment for hurting you'

'It was not his fault, he was only doing his job' she soothed her brother 'now help me up. I am not some helpless maiden. I have a household and lands to run'

Reluctantly, Aramis eased her into a sitting position, helping her to her feet slowly, as she tested the limitations of her bruised and broken body. Her breathing was laboured as she shifted her arm into a position that was least painful, every twist of her torso sending sharp pain from her ribs through her whole body.

'Who undressed me?' she asked suddenly, aware that she was in her night gown.

'Sofia and I. I tended to your injuries, and we dressed you again' Aramis blushed a little

'From what I have heard, you're very used to seeing naked women, brother dear' Isabelle joked, her slight giggle causing more pain than it ever should. Broken ribs was a new injury, and one she would not enjoy nursing 'help me into something more presentable'

Tenderly, Aramis helped her into a light, flowing dress, one that would not put much pressure on her broken limb. He fashioned a sling to support her arm and guided her down the stairs.

'Mademoiselle d'Herblay' a older man stood at the foot of the stair, and he bowed 'I am Captain Treville, of the Kings Musketeers'

'Captain Treville, I am honoured' she curtsied awkwardly 'Forgive my poor presentation'

'There is nothing to forgive, you have done your country a great service' he took her uninjured arm from her brother and they walked together to the sitting room.  
When he was assured she was sitting comfortably, he sat opposite, and a young man was brought into the room, held roughly by Athos and Porthos.

'What are you doing to this poor young man?' she asked, her ire rising

'This is the man who assaulted you, Mademoiselle' Treville waved his hand 'You are free to press charges if you wish, you have been terribly injured'

'Release him. He has only tried to do his duty' she waved her hand at the men holding him. 'Athos do not hold him so roughly. Release him' she said clearly, appalled that this was happening in her own home.

'Are you sure?' Athos' expression betrayed his anger, pushing the young man to his knees.

'Athos, do not react so' Isabelle scolded, unable to endure the pained expression he wore without wanting to comfort him 'Let him free, and let him sit beside me'

Reluctantly Porthos and Athos released their hold upon him, and the young man raised his eyes to her.

'Mademoiselle, I beg a thousand pardons. I did not know who you were. I believed you were on the brutes side. I am sorry... I am sorry' he had beautiful blue eyes, in contrast to his dark skin, and he looked terrified.

'Arnaud, isn't it?' she waited for his acknowledgement, received in a nod 'you are forgiven, you young soldier. The risk we take in any confrontation is that we may be injured or killed. I bore that risk, as did you all. I bear you no ill will'

'Thankyou, mademoiselle' he rose to his feet and bowed 'I am humbled by your forgiveness'

'Think no further on it' Isabelle smiled

'You are dismissed, Arnaud, return to the garrison with the regiment' Treville said firmly, without looking at him. Armaud all but ran from the room, the terrified expression on his face remain until he was out of their sight.

'Isabelle you are too forgiving' Athos grumbled, still standing by the door

'Does Aramis no longer practice in his faith? We must forgive those who harm us their trespasses, surely he repeats this to you?' she turned a scathing glance to Athos 'I have forgiven him. He has not done harm to you. You need not persecute him' Athos scowled, and she laughed internally 'Do not scowl so, Athos, it makes you ever so much more handsome'

A blush rose on his neck, and Porthos grinned at her jovially. A small smirk crossed Treville's face, though he dampened his amusement quickly.

'Have you dined?' she asked after a few moments of silence

'Indeed mademoiselle, your staff have been most kind in attending to our needs' Treville nodded in appreciation 'We will leave you and your town in peace, by evening'

'I am enjoying the company, Captain' she rose from the chair 'But for now, I must see to what duties I am still able to perform'


	5. Chapter 5

'You are summoned before the king and queen. Dress appropriately' Aramis said, handing his sister an envelope sealed in wax with the Kings seal. He was standing awkwardly in the entrance of their family home, three weeks after the battle on her land, where she had displayed her calm during conflict, where she had been injured so painfully.

'Are you well Aramis?' She asked, motioning for him to follow her. When they were ensconced in the privacy of her parlour, she embraced him tightly with her unbroken arm, and he kissed her forehead softly in return.

'Very well Isabelle. Are you? How goes the recovery?'

'Extremely, and slowly, I am adjusting to the use of only one arm. Though I am curious as to the reason for this summons, I'm not of importance enough to meet the king' she read the letter thoroughly, 'the king wishes to hear my account of our fight here... Does he know of our relation?'

'Only my three brothers, and Treville are aware. Though I suppose the king must be made aware now' he conceded

'Are you to escort me?'

'On the morrow, I am. If I may stay here tonight?'

'This is your home, of course you may'

'Athos asks after you' he said slyly, watching her carefully. He knew his sisters feelings for Athos, and of his feelings for her, it was only a matter of time before something gave.

'That is kind of him. I suppose we shall see him tomorrow?' She answered carefully, aware that he was trying to coax a reaction from her.

'Indeed, he shall meet us before the castle. Shall I order you a carriage? It is a three hour ride' Aramis smiled. He would see his sister happy and settled, it was all he could do for the heartache he had caused.

'I can still out ride you, brother darling' she teased 'I will pack a change of clothes'


	6. Chapter 6

'Ah! Mademoiselle d'Herblay!' The King said loudly upon her entrance to his reception hall, the crowd parted down the middle all eyes turning to her.

Isabelle curtsied, while the musketeers behind her bowed and removed themselves to the side. 'Your majesties' she approached their thrones, out of place and uncomfortable in the restrictive dress, unusually shy with the eyes of every courtesan on her, judging every moment.

'I summoned you to hear your account of the battle of Domfront. According to the musketeers, you assisted bravely in battle' his tone hinted at his disbelief, though the queen looked on in interest. She nursed her son in her lap, and he squirmed to escape.

'I assisted to the best of my abilities, Sire' she admitted, holding her trembling hands together.

'Then I must ask you to regale us with your story of heroism!' He exclaimed, gesturing to the court standing about the room, looking on in vague disinterest.

'I would be only too happy to inform your majesties, however I hope that I may speak in private? Much of my tale is rather personal'

Without a word, the King waved his hand and dismissed the crowded room. Only the musketeers remained behind her, and Isabelle began to retell her account of the terrible events.

When she had finished, the King applauded. 'What fantastic bravery you showed, Mademoiselle. Pray tell us, how is it that you came upon such skills? And how is a lovely women such as you unwed or betrothen?'

'I was fortunate to receive an education to rival any mans, sire. Though I remain unwed... Simply due to misfortunes of my own. My mother died when I was but 5. My brother died in the massacre of Savoy, he was a musketeer for only a year. My father died of grief only months later. I was orphaned at 15 and it was necessary that I take control of my fathers lands and farms. I have not yet had the good fortune to find a husband'

'In 9 years you have not ever met a man who you might wed?' The queen asked, her face etched with pity, her glance straying to the musketeers behind her.

'There was once a man, though he has made it clear that we are neither compatible nor easy. None could ever rival him, nor compare. Please do not make me speak of it any further majesty' she could hear Rene muttering to Athos under his breath and her cheeks flushed momentarily 'the circumstances surrounding the affair are of deep personal pain, to make me speak of them would be most cruel'

'And your brother, a musketeer?' The king queried 'do you not hold anger against them?' he gestured to the men behind her 'you have suffered much heartbreak'

'For many years I did. It was only two years ago that I discovered that my brother had died in name only, that it was necessary to protect him. I know my brother by another name, but you would know him as Aramis' Isabelle explained, turning slightly to look at her brother with a smile. 'I am grateful to have him in my life once more, though it can never be the same'

The queen attempted to hide the fond glance at Aramis and it was then Isabelle truly looked at the little prince. She felt her innards clench. He was the spitting image of Rene as a babe.

'How fantastic!' The King clapped his hands together, oblivious to what was below his own nose 'I shall name you Lady Isabelle. I would very much like you to attend court. We need more women of character like you'

'I appreciate the offer, sire, but I have lands and farms to oversee. May we compromise?' She responded with hesitation 'perhaps I could make more regular visits. I would enjoy being able to spend time with her majesty and France's little prince'

The king frowned for a moment, before nodding 'it would not do to take you away from your duties' he pondered her a while before continuing 'won't you join us for dinner this evening? I am most certain Anne would be able to introduce you to some eligible bachelors'

'Thank you highness, I would be honoured' she curtsied once more and retreated from the room.

A servant showed Isabelle to a sitting room where she could wait for dinner, the four musketeers following as usual.

'Aramis...' She stared at him when the servants had left 'is the little prince?' She did not finish the question, but pointed at him.  
He nodded.  
She clapped a hand to her mouth to keep from saying anything she may regret.

Her gaze fell to Athos, who shrugged as though to say 'what was I to do?'

'Oh my god' she said eventually, taking a seat, 'Athos you promised me you would keep him from trouble!'

'On the battlefield, perhaps. I cannot tear him from every woman's bed, it would be a full time occupation' Athos was not meeting her eyes, and she wondered if what she had said earlier had hurt him. Why did he have to be so perfectly good looking?

'We must get back to the garrison' Porthos said through the tension 'shall we also stable your horse Isabelle?'

'If you please, Porthos. I can find my way back after dinner' she smiled at him, the gruff bear of a man, who was so tender at heart. She did adore him, his loyalty, his love for his brothers, his unwavering support. She hoped he would remain her friend for many years.

'Nonsense, Isabelle. You will not travel Paris alone at night. Athos will return for you' d'Artagnan grinned, obviously recruited by Aramis to push the two closer together. Isabelle scowled at her brother, though Athos agreed amiably.

'Might I remind you all that I spent 4 years travelling Paris alone at night. I am in no need of an escort' she scoffed.

'You spent four years traveling Paris alone, dressed as a man. If it is your brothers wish, I will return to escort you Isabelle' Athos spoke up, and the fire in his eyes took her breath away 'I would not forgive myself if anything were to happen to you'

'It is settled then' Aramis beamed, and he kissed his sisters forehead lightly 'until tonight, sister dearest'

The room was quiet after her friends left, and she paced, taking in the view from the window. Eventually, a servant appeared, advising her that the queen wished to see her in private. She was led through a maze of corridors, before finally reaching the queens rooms. She sat on the floor, playing with her son. When she saw Isabelle, she smiled, inviting her to join them.

Little Louis played with the most expensive toys, ones the children of her little village could not even dream of.

'I thought you might wish to meet your prince' Anne said cautiously

'He is the image of his father' Isabelle responded, a knowing smile shared between them. 'He will make a fantastic king'

'He will' Anne agreed

The silence between them was comfortable, Isabelle had a feeling that Anne felt better for simply sharing her secret.

'I hope that you will bring Louis to my families estate for a holiday one day, to allow him to play in the country' Isabelle said eventually 'I am sure that the musketeers will be capable of protecting you both during the trip'

'That would be lovely, I am positive that we would both enjoy that' Anne nodded

They talked as equals, happy in each other's company until one of her ladies arrived to advise her of dinner.


	7. Chapter 7

Athos waited at the door of the dining room for her, patiently listening for the moment Isabelle would be released. He both admired and despised Aramis for his cunning plan to get him closer to his sister. Her beauty had not faded over the years, she was still just as lively and captivating as the day he had met her. Of course he loved her, but how could a love like that ever be sustained? How could he love her when his heart still wanted his wife?

She was surprised when Athos was waiting for her, and he held out his arm for her to take.

'Shouldn't you be drunk by now Athos?' She asked, her voice dripping with snark. 'Aren't you usually propping up as table at this point in the evening?'

'I promised I would see you to your brother safely, and I take my duties seriously' he responded, looking at her sideways, with a small smirk at her snarky manner.

'Is that all I am to you, a duty?'

'Of course not Isabelle' he sounded affronted as they stepped into the cool evening.

'Where is my horse?'

'I thought it quicker for you to ride with me'

'You torment me, Athos' her hand trembled at his arm, a mixture of fear, lust and anger coursing through her veins

'I would never wish to cause you grief' he stopped by his beautiful stallion. 'I will walk beside you'

'Athos...' She tried to make out his face in the shadows cast by his hat. 'It is not riding with you that will torment me Athos. It is being in your presence, with the feelings I have never been able to rid myself of, that torture my heart. There has never been any man that could measure up to you' She turned to face his horse, preparing to mount, a more difficult feat with the layers upon layers of her dress.

His hands upon her waist stung as he lifted her easily into the saddle, and she was joined moments later by him behind her. One arm wrapped around her, the other holding tightly to the reins, he nudged his horse onwards, out of the palace gardens.

His breath was hot on her neck as he guided them through the throngs of people to the garrison. She wanted to hit him, so close to her, his arm so indelicately placed. She would have her brother for this.

He rode straight into the stables, hands upon her waist to help her down, their noses almost touching. The moment was heavy between them, but he made no move to act. She blinked away tears of rejection and left the stable quickly, determined to remain the strong woman.

'Isabelle!' he caught her arm at the door, his eyes full of a familiar fire, turning her to face him 'Did you mean what you said? Today, at the palace?'

'What part, Athos, I spoke a lot today. You need to be clearer' she was angry, and she wanted him to know that he was the cause of it.

'That there was once a man. That no one had compared. That no one had measured up to... me' he said slowly, as though she would run from his words

'Of course I meant it' she softened 'Of course I did. I still want you. I have never stopped wanting you for myself'

He crushed her to his chest, his lips pressed hard against hers, kissing her with desperation and need that she had only ever felt in her own heart. She ignored the throbbing pain in her shoulder and arm, clinging to him while the moment still lasted. Her lungs burned with the need for air, and he parted from her for the barest moment, allowing her the cold air, before claiming her again.

She clung to him, afraid he would run away, that he would forget this moment and leave her behind again. He clung to her, desperate to feel the love of someone who, even after all his disappointments, still found him worthy, still wanted him.

'Athos' she gasped as he moved his kiss from her lips to her neck, needing him to stop, but never wanting him to. 'Athos, not here'

He pulled away from her, disappointed 'What's wrong?'

'Not here- metres from horse manure... not in the garrison. I have waited 9 years, can we wait another day? Take me home. Spend some time' she nuzzled against his neck, kissing his softly, hoping against hope he would agree, that he would finally see the sense of them being together.

'Isabelle, I'm so sorry, I've been so idiotic' he mumbled, pulling her close again 'I should have begged your father for your hand that very first night. Aramis has often wondered of you, encouraged me to seek you out. He has always known'

'I am Lady Isabelle now, do you think the Comt de la ferre will be able to lower himself to my level?' she joked, trembling fingers playing with his beard, awkwardly adjusting her arm to a comfortable position

'I renounced that title, Isabelle, so the question is- is a lowly soldier worthy of her Ladyship?' he smiled against her lips, relishing in the closeness of her, her warmth, her scent.

'Do not jest, Athos' she whispered and surrendered to his kiss 'it has always been you. Always'

Eventually, after many heated kisses, many professions of adoration, Athos took her hand and gently led her from the stable. Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan sat at a table, playing cards.

'Did the horse need re-shoeing? You were in there a long while' Aramis smirked, but looked down at his cards 'Did you enjoy dinner with the royal family, Isabelle?'

'I did, yes. Her majesty and Prince Louis will be visiting my home in the future, the King has agreed, I do hope you can join us'

He looked up quickly, his eyes wide. He cleared his throat before whispering 'I am sure that I shall be among those who protect them'

'Of course, Aramis. I would expect nothing less of one so... faithful' she smirked, happy to play with her brother for the first time in years, her hand in Athos' as she waited for him to rise and come to her.

'It is good to see you in such high spirits' he commented, throwing down his cards in defeat and rising to talk to his sister.

'I have not felt so in many a year' Isabelle grinned, allowing her brother to cup her face in gloved hand, kiss her forehead gently. 'I am pleased to be near those whom I love' they looked at each other, sharing in the small smiles, and he felt he might finally have his sister back. His young, carefree sister who had been forced to be an adult far too young, mostly of his own fault.

'Aramis' Athos said finally 'I... I wish to speak to you in private. If you please' Aramis nodded, and reluctantly Isabelle released her loves hand.

She watched the two of them walk through the garrison gates and into the square beyond, until Porthos forcibly distracted her with cards.

'First show me your sleeves, Porthos, I know a man who play often when I see one' she turned his wrists and emptied his sleeves of cards.

'Isabelle you have never missed a trick' he laughed, and set about dealing.

'Not once' she laughed 'and not ever'

'Mademoiselle d'Herblay! You are here late' Treville stomped down the stairs

'Captain Treville, how lovely to see you again' she curtsied 'I have come from dinner with the king, I promise I shall not keep your musketeers up too late'

'It is not their wellbeing, but your own, which troubles me' he sat opposite her 'You have been granted the title of Lady- it would not do for a Lady to be in such places, alone and well into the evening'

'Captain I assure you, I have come only to visit my brother, who will escort me home, given your leave'

'It is a shame you have lands to care for- the musketeers could do with a fighter such as yourself among the ranks' Treville accepted the cards Porthos dealt before him, and their game began.

'Do not tempt me, Captain. I should sorely love to join your ranks' she looked at her cards, frowning, though she knew they were good.


	8. Chapter 8

'Are you sure you could be tempted by a soldiers life?' Athos grinned as he approached with a spring in his step, Aramis hardly a beat behind him, bearing the same grin

'Should the right man tempt me' she smiled at him, Porthos nudged her slightly

'Isabelle, may I speak with you?' Aramis asked brusquely, thought he hid his smile poorly.

'Indeed you may, Aramis' she turned her cards face down. 'Athos you may take over my hand, if you wish' Athos seated himself in her position, their hands brushing not even slightly subtly.

'Isabelle' Aramis started, enclosed in the semi privacy of the captains office 'Athos has asked for your hand in marriage'

'And?' she prompted after too long a moment silence, searching her brothers face, behind his grin.

'I have given him my blessing' he grinned, taking her hand 'It has been far too long coming, and in doing so I have deprived you a father to walk you to your marriage'

'I am overcome with joy, Rene' she held his hands, unable to wipe the smile from her face 'I ask only that you walk me to my husband when the day is to come'

'It will be my honour' he kissed her cheeks, brushing her hair from her face 'I remember you as a babe, sweet and darling. Always wanting to play with the boys, to play swords and villains. Always eager to fight'

'Indeed I was brother, I loved the action, the adventure... the adrenaline of the chase' she pressed her head against his 'brother, I could never settle for an ordinary life'

'Athos will not leave the musketeers for you' Rene warned her

'Nor would I ever ask him to. I love him, Rene. And we both love the musketeers. I would not ask him to give them up'

'You will live your life married, but mostly alone. Can you comprehend the loneliness?'

'Can you comprehend the loneliness of being orphaned and left alone for 7 years?'

Rene searched the depths of her eyes, like he was searching her soul 'I am sorry, Isabelle. From the depths of my heart. I swear to you that I will never leave you alone like that again'

'I will never be alone if you allow me to marry Athos, and gain the brotherhood of the Musketeers' she ran her fingers over his shoulder guard as she did so many years ago 'Aramis, I love him. my heart could not be more content'

'Then I am filled with joy, my dearest sister' he hugged her 'we can arrange your marriage as soon as you are fit'

'Aramis... I thank you' she kissed his cheeks and allowed him her arm to walk her back to the table surrounded by his friends and her love.

'Am I to offer my congratulations?' Porthos beamed, holding his hand out to Isabelle as she approached

'I haven't asked yet!' Athos scowled, standing and taking Isabelle's hand. In front of his friends he spoke. 'Isabelle Rosalie d'Herblay, from the very first moment I lay eyes upon you I have loved you. I have hesitated too long in confessing the truth, and it is only by fate that you also have hesitated. I ask you, with your brothers blessing, to be my wife'

'What do you think' Isabelle grinned and kissed him, joyous in the glow of the evening. The musketeers and their captain embraced them, the warmth and love overwhelming. It was going to be next to impossible to separate the two of them, Aramis knew, watching them kiss as his friends returned to their game.

'Stop it Athos!' d'Artagnan said eventually, playfully scolding him 'save yourselves for your wedding night'


	9. Chapter 9

Athos and Aramis delivered her home the next day, ensuring she was safe on the journey. Athos rode beside her, fussing over her the whole journey. He stayed for 3 whole days, three long, heart pounding days in which he showed her all the ways he loved her. It was only when summons from Treville arrived that he grudgingly left her, kissing her passionately before he rode into the pale dawn.

Isabelle returned to bed, her fists clenching in the sheets that still smelt like her love, the memory of him inside her still fresh. He had taken her maidenhood in the most loving way, slowly and tenderly, with great care for her. He whispered his love to her, with her legs wrapped around him, her fingers traveling over him, through his hair, over every scar, tracing every muscle. She wanted him in every way from then until eternity.

Her days felt empty without him, though she continued, a strong woman, running lands no man would dare take from her. A month passed. Letters from all of her dear musketeers arrived regularly- sometimes a letter a day. She felt less alone when she read their words before the fireplace each night, updated on their adventures and their non-secret duties often.

* * *

'I should have known he would choose a pretty one' the words roused Isabelle from her sleep, jerking away as she felt the cold steel of a dagger at her throat.

'Who are you?' she asked angrily, her privacy and safety compromised.

'I am your beloveds wife. Anne de Breuil. Though you may know me as Milady de Winter' the blade withdrew, and so did she, standing in the shadows. Isabelle felt subtly next to her for her sword, wrapping her fingers around the hilt.

'His wife?' Isabelle repeated 'I thought you were exiled?'

'I was. I have returned for my husband' the blade shone in the vague moonlight let in by the curtains.

'What do you mean, returned for him?' she sat up, pulling her blade from beneath the covers 'You mean to kill him?'

Milady took a half step back 'I should have known you'd be feisty. He always liked the fighters' she smirked 'No, you foolish child- I have come to win back my husband'

In a split second Isabelle was on her feet, the tip of her sword nicking her assailants hand. She dropped her dagger in surprise. 'You will do no such thing. The hurt you have caused him... I will not allow it to continue'

'Just try to stop me' Milady's grin was wide and wicked, and she turned, running from the house as quickly and silently as she came. Isabelle followed her, but heard only the pounding of hoof-beats as she escaped.


End file.
